


I have had a wet dream about you, Doctor Watson.

by Eulalia_writer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Couch Sex, Doctor John, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, John "Three Continents" Watson, M/M, Morning Sex, Not My Fault, Science Experiments, Sexual Experimentation, Sherlock I-am-the-boss Holmes, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 22:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7988710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eulalia_writer/pseuds/Eulalia_writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's wet dream about John led him to think about a new kind of experiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I have had a wet dream about you, Doctor Watson.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to let me know if you find any kind of mistake :)

_“I've had a wet dream tonight.”._

They'd been living together for almost two years now and John could quite certainly claim to have gotten used to Sherlock's barely creepy weirdness, however he could not help but remain frozen for a second, staring at his roommate from above the newspaper he was still holding in his hands: Sherlock was sipping his tea, sitting quietly in his armchair, and as soon as he noticed John's perplexed gaze, he leaned his head in confusion.

“You know Sherlock – explained the doctor with a sarcastic voice, sighing, exasperated – I know that you're not used to dealing with other human beings, but it is an appreciated habit, not to tell out loud everything that pops up in your brilliant mind.”.

“It was about you.” he added in a vaguely bored tone.

_“Excuse me?”_.

“I said – Sherlock began with an annoyed voice – tonight, among the many dreams that I have dreamt, the only one I remember was about you and me in kind of an intimate situation – he glanced at his friend – You do think that it's great fun, don't you, Doctor Watson?”.

John could not help but giggle, hiding his face behind the Times in his hands.

“I do, actually.”.

“Last night you wouldn't have done it. I mean, laughing. You were being _pretty busy with your mouth_ …”.

He stared at his roommate, intimately pleasured by his shocked expression; with a tiny smile on lips he set his cup on the floor, leaving it hovering over a stack of History books, before standing up from his armchair in order to get closer to John who was still sitting on the couch, staring at him in shock.

“Sherlock…?”.

“Yes…?”.

John _Three Continents_ Watson was more than used to being so close to other people – mostly women in fact, but he couldn't swear he'd never had a man sitting on his lap before – but the fact that his roommate had just settled astride on his legs and was staring at him, made him feel quite dizzy.

“May I know _what the hell_ are you doing?”.

“It's for an experiment.”.

“To prove what, Sherlock?”.

“I'm trying to figure out – whispered the dark-haired guy a heartbeat away from John's lips – whether it is possible that I am physically attracted to you also in the real life, and not only on the dream plane. Hold still now…”.

He put his hands on the face of an extremely confused Doctor Watson – who was actually also greatly excited by the situation – and then got close enough to let their lips crush.

Even though it had been months without the soldier touching a woman – and despite the fact that body above him _did not belong to a woman_ – his hands moved instinctively: one on Sherlock's hip and the other on his face, where it started to caress sweetly the damn sexy cheekbone of the man on his lap who was still biting his lower lip.

Actually, the fact that that man was William Sherlock Scott Holmes did not disturb him at all.

_“Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me, Dr. Watson?”_

“If I didn't know that you don't own a gun, I would ask you the same question, Holmes. Looks like your experiment is working quite well, doesn't it?”.

“I don't know. _Do tell me._ ”.

Sherlock's cold hand reached the blond man's to tighten it and gently guide it up to the bulge in his pants, ripping the lips of John a groan of surprise and forcing him to look up until he met the detective's gaze, and he realized with satisfaction that he had the pupils extremely dilated - John _Three Continents_ Watson grinned, starting to unbutton the dark-haired guy's trousers, and lowering the zipper; then he yanked them down with a single motion, releasing Sherlock's now half-hard penis.

“What does your experiment _require_ now?” John whispered, kissing the white and soft skin of the younger man's neck and sucking it long and hard enough to get a flashy purple sign appear.

The dark-haired guy muttered something incomprehensible in response.

“Excuse me?”.

Again, the consulting detective's words turned out too faint to be understood.

“Sher –”.

_“Oh, for God's sake, John!”_  his voice rang throughout the apartment, full of impatience and desire; saying no more word he seized the hand of the blond man and squeezed it around his bone, sighing in relief as soon as he began to wank.

“I said – he stuttered, out of breath and with the heart pounding out of his chest – that _the experiment requires you to make me cum_.".

“What if I do not want to?” asked John with a fake disinterested tone, but without stopping his hand.

“Oh – Sherlock cupped his face with his hands, pouncing on his lips and sucking his tongue until he managed to get from John a groan of appreciation – _but you do want to_.” he whispered in response as soon as he broke the kiss.

John looked at him with narrowed eyes, thinking of what could have prevented the detective from taking control of the situation: heck, Sherlock could be the boss on crime scenes, but now he didn't even had to _try_ to act like he was used to do, not with his pants unbuttoned: it was out of the question! He was John _Three Continents_ Watson, and regardless of the sex of those who stood in before him, he had _never_ been under control _of anyone_ , _in bedroom_!

Mentally drowning the little man in his head that was trying to remind him that the person in question was Sherlock _I-am-the-boss_ Holmes and that _technically_ they were not _in the bedroom_ , but _on the couch_ , John grabbed with both hands the shoulders of the dark-haired boy, pushing him aside, so that he found himself with his back against the cushions.

Suppressing a satisfied laugh, caused by the almost upset expression of his roommate, John settled on his knees between Sherlock's legs open, lowering further his pants and boxer, before lying down on his body and lower himself onto his elbows; he kissed him again with no courtesy.

“Would you mind explaining me what you meant before when you said that I was _pretty busy with my mouth_   _tonight_ , Sherlock?” breathed on his lips, smiling mischievously when he felt the hard cock of the younger boy rub against his own body.

“Come on, you know that I consider you smart enough to know what I meant.” moaned the dark-haired guy with a fake bored tone.

The soldier chuckled, sitting back down on his knees between the other's legs, before bending over his quivering hard-on and opened his mouth to welcome it into his mouth.

Sherlock arched his back, sinking his fingers in his friend's blond hair, pulling slightly and moaning in appreciation.

It was not the first time that John found himself in _such a situation_ – the years passed in the army were dotted with hookups with particularly submissive soldiers – and managed to use his experience in order to bring the detective to the edge of the orgasm over and over again, until the dark-haired guy almost begged him to make him come: he pleased his lover, enjoying with satisfaction the warm liquid that invaded his mouth right after one last stroke.

He went back to his kneeling position, fixing, seeking relief, the hard-on in his pants – watching Sherlock twitching during orgasm and hearing him moan had excited him beyond belief.

The dark-haired boy took a few seconds to compose himself, sitting up in front of John and leaning toward him enough to kiss lips, and then immediately moved his attentions to the soldier's neck, who sighed in appreciation, unable to help himself from doing it.

The long fingers of the consulting detective flew fast fiddling with the button and zipper of his roommate’s pants, leaving Dr. Watson pleasantly surprised by the boldness with which Sherlock was now gently sucking his tongue.

Once he'd freed John's hard-on, Sherlock began to masturbate him furiously, and without taking his lips off his, until he heard him moan and something warm trickled his hand.

The blond man leaned back in on the couch still panting and the heart still pounding, and his lover did the same, lying down with his head against his chest after having summarily cleaned his hand on a piece of cloth that was lying near the couch.

“Results?” said the soldier to mock him.

“What?" the dark-haired guy was genuinely confused.

"Your experiment!” the laughter of the doctor had invaded the living room.

“Oh … I don't know, maybe we will have to do it again, you know, _just to be sure_ …” the tone of the consulting detective was mischievous, but the kiss that he printed on John's hand before placing it on his own chest was very tender.

Below his open palm, the blond man could feel his best friend's heart pounding almost at a tachycardia rhythm.

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes. You always manage to amaze me, _you know_?”.

“I do my best, Doctor Watson, _my dear_ . _I do my best_.”.

 


End file.
